


Slug King

by SmokedSalmon



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Animorphism, Implied Sexual Content, Other, Paranormal, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmokedSalmon/pseuds/SmokedSalmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Axel is an animorphic slug that wears a leather jacket. Roxas falls in love with his groovy skateboarding moves, and they end up making slug babies in the woods. This story is an extension of my early-twenties existential crisis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slug King

### I.

When he was hardly the height of his mailbox, Roxas saw a slug. The crustacean was thick like his grandpa’s thumb and rippled along the sidewalk as if imitating a dropped bag of milk. He found it dazing with its sleepy movements and thick trail of mucus that seeped into the concrete like rain, but Roxas had learned from his fourth grade teacher that usually the prettiest creatures, such as poison dart frogs, were likely the most dangerous. It was why he refrained from scooping it up and depositing it into a tank, but even with that cautionary tale weaved together in the back of his head, he was still tempted to poke.

The outer layer of the slug’s mucus membrane was dotted with red gems, making it resemble idealized treasure, and its tummy appeared stained by grass. Roxas followed it while crouched down and gripping his knobby knees, eyes wide as if he expected it to do more than wiggle its antennas and pause to turn its upper-half from left to right. He liked to believe he had an impressive history with bugs; from poking needles into spiders’ pudgy abdomens to collecting Praying mantids and relishing in the sight of them mating, fighting and then building their oothecae. But he’d never seen such a slug before. All of the others resembled dirty dishwater, and with his brother watching in horror, Roxas had once made a game out of dumping salt on the sentient boogers and laughing at their panicked dissolve.

“Don’t kill it,” Sora murmured when he noticed Roxas’ stalking.

“I’m not. I like this one.”

The slug paused as if it’d heard the compliment. Roxas laughed, leaned in and then finally reached out with bare fingers to stroke along its slimy back. Its spongy skin dipped downward only for Roxas to suddenly retract with a yell because his fingers exploded in stinging pain only comparable to being burned. Startled, Sora rushed to his brother’s side and grabbed his hand to see why Roxas was blowing on his fingers with teary eyes. Upon closer observation, he could see the pads of Roxas’ fingertips were already blistered with bubbling skin that only grew whiter with each passing second. Sora tugged him to his feet and began dragging him toward the house so they could grab the first-aid kit beneath the sink.

Roxas jerked back to defiantly slam the heel of his sandal on top of the slug, but when he looked over his shoulder with a squint, the creature was already gliding off the edge of the sidewalk and disappearing into crabgrass.

It was the first sighting of what would become an infestation. A couple weeks later, while peering down his country road and waiting for the school bus, Roxas saw not one but three slugs from the same toxic species that had bewildered the doctors. On the night he’d been stung, his mother had found him curled up in a sticky puddle of his own vomit and rushed him to the emergency room, but the allergic reaction had quickly subsided with a shot of Benadryl. Once released from the hospital, Roxas roamed the yard with a taste for revenge. After a fruitless hour of skulking with a stick in hand, the culprit was nowhere to be found, and his mom made him come inside.

Sora yelped and tugged Roxas back as soon as he also saw the trio. “ _Gross_.”

“Can I kill them now?”

“ _No_ ,” Sora said, and he punched Roxas’ bicep. “I’d sting you too if I saw you coming near me.”

Roxas considered this and decided to leave them alone, for the time being. Their spectral slime captured the full rainbow beneath the morning sun, and Roxas would’ve never voiced it, but he thought they were pretty even if one of them might’ve been the same slug that had stung him. Feeling daring, he stepped forward and leaned over with a defiantly arched eyebrow. The rickety bus could be heard only a mile away, and he glumly glanced up at the yellow rust bucket bobbing down their gravely street. It stuck out like a sore thumb along its woodland backdrop, and the dread of school made him forget about slugs.

He rarely mentioned the sightings that followed, but it was mainly because he wasn’t sure if he was paranoid. During the warmer afternoons, Roxas could’ve sworn the slugs gravitated toward him; eventually finding ways to sit perched on the edge of the porch with their ever-pulsating bodies tossing and turning like gooey miniature lagoons. It was the first time Roxas anticipated the end of summer because then the slugs would die. Slugs in their region were supposed to be small, but as the days passed, the slugs outgrew the length of his middle fingers and became much quicker than he was comfortable with. He’d turn his head for a second, and then before he knew it, there’d be one seated in front of his fingers, sniffing him out.

Roxas jerked his hand back. “Stop following me.”

He discovered slugs weren’t good at comprehending. Weeks passed and they continued to grow with a persistent need to be wherever he was. One in particular resided predominantly in the tree beside his bedroom window, and it spent its days travelling from branch to branch, continuing to grow until it became the size of a cat. When bored, and mostly avoiding homework, Roxas leaned out his window and watched its sloth-like existence with a lopsided frown.

“I should’ve squished you.”

The slug wormed its way toward the branch nearest Roxas, and Roxas hoped it’d fall when the breeze forced the slug to haphazardly bob up and down. The leaves created static throughout the property, but the sound mostly derived from the distant forest he hadn’t played in since the slugs had taken over. Something about them unsettled Roxas, but not for obvious reasons. It was mostly the way they focused on him. Not once had he seen a slug in the vicinity of Sora, which forced Roxas to ask himself what exactly he’d done to cause the species’ fascination.

Before winter, there was a frost. That frost put a standstill to the slugs that’d infiltrated not just Roxas’ peace of mind, but his mother’s garden, anywhere he wanted to lay his hand, the field behind his school and even in the crevices of his bedroom. Whenever they didn’t surround him, their mucus did, and sometimes he caught himself checking the moisture on his arms just in case he’d accidentally rolled in it. Nothing was more unsettling than picking up a pencil from his bedroom floor and discovering it was coated in translucent gunk that stuck his fingers together like glue. He’d try to drop the pencil only to watch in horror as it fell like a descending spider.

The slug in the tree was the most persistent. It continued to grow until the forecast promised winter was on its way, and when Roxas realized it would certainly die, he developed a sense of underlying sadness he cloaked with tired loathing. By then, the slug could only slither along the strongest branches because its weight had quadrupled. Roxas had never been within an arm’s reach of it, but he would’ve bet his entire piggybank it could’ve held its own against a Labrador.

Clouds like fresh bread morphed into soggy sponges and Roxas pushed open his window as soon as the distinct scent of snow entered his room. “You’re going to die! It’s going to snow and you’ll freeze!”

Antennas waved back and forth, and Roxas grew impatient with the slug’s incompetence. He pushed back from the window, slammed it shut and then despondently returned to his homework. Later that evening, as the snowflakes danced downward, Roxas couldn’t withhold his curiosity and checked the tree for the slug’s status. Roxas parted his lips and his shoulders sagged.

It was gone.

 

### II.

After the first Summer and Fall of Slugs, Roxas ignored them whenever they attempted to infest again. Like seasonal sadness, they returned without want. No longer interested in bugs but skateboards and collecting cigarette butts off the pavement to smoke until someone could sneak a pack, Roxas and Sora were preoccupied with more important things. Though the slugs were everywhere, Roxas realized he was the only one who could see the largest, which both unnerved him and gave him permission to ignore their existence further. It took all of his self-control not to pound each one with the heel of his Vans, but he was afraid someone would spot him murdering air, which would’ve wrecked his image of ‘collected cool.’ And Roxas was collected, infamous for staring down the worst. He, and everyone else for that matter, truly believed he had a high tolerance for most things.

That is, except for the newest senior in his high school.

“Would you look at that asshole?” Pence said, cheery and enthusiastic about being able to talk shit.

Hayner was sitting on his deck with an arched eyebrow and unsettled sneer. “He thinks he’s so cool all because he’s one class ahead of us.”

“Yeah,” Roxas said, faintly disconnected. “He’s barely a year older than all of us.”

Sora flicked at a grimy penny by his shoe. “He has to be older than a year, Roxas. Did you see how tall he is? It’s like Sasquatch bought a deck.”

Gangly with sunken cheeks and hair that’d been bleached red and dreaded into a teardrop bun that looked infested with dust mites, Roxas avoided Axel at all costs. Rumors about him had started the second he blitzed the front of the school on his skateboard, looking as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks and binged on God only knew what substance – but that entire idea was manifestation of Roxas’ ignorance on substances in general. Axel was currently infiltrating the pathetic skate park his town had built to keep ‘heathens’ off their freshly paved sidewalks, and Roxas and Company watched in envy-coated disgust. Whether or not Axel was nasty didn’t subjugate the fact he was talented, and with talent came the admiration of every girl they’d once had pining for them. In the realm of pubescent angst, it was hard, if not entirely impossible, to compete with tall, crude and tight pants.

“His jacket is stupid,” Hayner said, continuing to spit venom for the sake of conversation. Roxas had long since noticed Hayner hated Axel the most, but there wasn’t meat to the reason. He’d never seen them interact, making the entire rift embarrassing, and sometimes Roxas wanted him to relax for the sake of their image. “Who actually wears that?”

“Leather and patches are classically cool.” Olette sank Hayner’s attempt. She wasn’t afraid to call him out on his blatant jealousy. One of the few perks of being Hayner’s girlfriend since middle school. “It’s his personality that makes it stupid to you. Admit it. He dresses awesome, and you would too if you could.”

“I don’t have to admit anything to you.”

As if Axel heard, he flashed Hayner a shit-eating grin, and Roxas leaned forward with his own uncomfortable stare. Axel might’ve been roughened up, but his eyes were as if they’d been dipped from a pool of melted olivine. Roxas had sucked on green apple Jolly Ranchers less artificial looking than his eye color. For no reason other than hormones, Roxas guessed his tongue tasted like cheap Granny Smith vodka, and had he been given the opportunity to press his nose into the skin beneath his ear, then the combination of stale smoke and minerals would’ve filled his nose. Roxas’ fingers twitched at the thought, but he silently questioned his attraction to the disgusting and unsanitary before asking the group if they were hungry.

“We could get nachos,” Sora offered.

That was the deciding call, and Roxas stood up, brushing off his ass. This was the unfortunate signal for Axel to intervene, and when he kicked and pushed in their direction, Roxas tried not to smile at Hayner’s visible tensing. Axel came to a skidding halt directly in front of them, but there was no denying he had eyes for Roxas and Roxas alone. This unnerved Sora, who stepped up beside his brother, but Roxas gently punched his shoulder as if to tell him he needed to relax before he humiliated them both. Sora’s do-good behavior had more than once turned them into ostriches. As much as he loved his sibling, he could cramp a style faster than an untrained contortionist.

“Roxas, Roxas,” Axel said, and Roxas raised both of his dark brows.

“Axel, Axel,” Roxas said back and then tilted his head, waiting.

His response made Axel faintly smile with a gleam of teeth, and Axel determinedly ignored how everyone except him was uncomfortable with the situation by stepping a little closer to Roxas. Roxas caught a sense of familiarity between them, and they held a stare that flipped Roxas’ innards. A sudden burning sensation crept up along the back of his neck and flooded his face until the very tips of his ears burned hot, forcing him to reach up and rub the side of his jaw. Hayner cleared his throat after glancing between them as if they were being vulgar.

“I’m a little too big for you to squish me now.” Axel licked his front teeth, sucked them and proceeded to disregard the surprise on Roxas’ face.

His eyebrows crept toward his hairline. “What?”

Axel ignored the question and returned to his deck. He slid his fingers along the top of his head as if smoothing down hair that rarely fell out of place and then turned his back to Roxas. Only then did Roxas note what exactly was on the back of his jacket. Aside from the asymmetrical collage of band patches that peppered his arms to the tune of intricately placed dagger-like studs, there sat the centerpiece of his handcrafted art. It was the fashionable focal point, and somehow the one thing Roxas overlooked.

SLUG KING

“You’ve actually gotten to _know_ that asshole?” Hayner snapped. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Roxas’ shoulders hunched. “He just knows my name. He’s always being weird with me like that.”

“Is weird even the _word_?” Olette asked.

Pence wasn’t as impressed by Axel as the rest of him, which was why he tugged on his rollerblades with distractively hard yanks and shot Sora a finalizing glance. “Are we going to get those nachos or what?”

Sora scooped up his board and grabbed Roxas’ wrist, tugging him away from the crime scene.

“Did you see how he looked at you?” Sora wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“No,” Roxas lied.

He had seen it, but he’d also seen it before then. Axel unapologetically made eye contact with Roxas whenever they passed one another in between classes. He did this when they waited in the gym for their shared lunch hour to finish and outside in the student parking lot after school. Rarely was it blatantly in the company of others, and the odds of Axel speaking to him during those moments were slim to none.

One of the glaring flaws with Roxas’ public high school, and public high school in general, was the fact it was closer to a prison than an academic institution. Whether or not those two things had become so synonymous they were no longer indistinguishable didn’t matter to Roxas, because escaping the company of his less desirable peers (i.e. Axel) wasn’t possible no matter how he defined his situation. This was mainly because the building itself was comprised of only two stacked hallways and a wing for the cafeteria, choir room and music room. There was no real escape unless Roxas considered the agriculture department and garage an exit, but he was a walking target for a confrontation with shit kickers, forced accents and spit bottles. He didn’t have many options.

The next time Axel and Roxas spoke it was a Wednesday morning like any other Wednesday morning, plus a monsoon. Hayner had skipped with some mysterious illness probably induced by his own fingers, and Olette didn’t have the same lunch hour as he did, which left Pence. But Pence had taken a liking to going off campus for lunch and coming back smelling like the catacombs of KFC, making him the envy of those without cars or money. Roxas had lost his part-time job as a Chinese restaurant waiter when his mother hadn’t let him go in on Christmas, and that financial rift had all at once made buying expensive lunches everyday impossible, so he indulged in the school’s low-income soy meals instead. Sometimes he was convinced they tasted okay.

Roxas was alone, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he liked it most of the time.

“You look miserable,” Axel noted, appearing out of thin air and dropping his tray beside Roxas with a clatter. Roxas turned to look over his shoulder. “Very miserable, in fact.”

 “This is just my face.” Roxas dipped his chicken nugget into a pool of barbecue sauce artistically swirled with mayo. “Why’re you sitting with me?”

“Oh,” Axel ran his fingers along the surface of the round table. He suddenly leaned over, admiring the collection of gum stuck to the underside. “I’m sorry. Are there reservations here? I had no idea we were eating at a Michelin restaurant. How many stars?”

“Hint taken,” Roxas said. Axel didn’t touch his food and instead fiddled with his phone, effectively building an uncomfortable silence. “So, what’s your damage?”

He grinned. “My _damage_?”

“You’re so –- _whatever_.”

“That’s so -- _vague_.”

Roxas went from partially being turned toward Axel to all the way. It not only eased the tension in his spine, but it forced the redhead to somewhat take him seriously. If it weren’t for the nugget crumbs on the corners of his mouth, then he might’ve even seemed intimidating.

“What did you mean by I can’t _squish_ you now?”

Axel’s mouth formed a mocking O-shape, but he clearly understood what Roxas was referencing. Had he not, then Roxas would’ve demanded medical records to defend his amnesiac disorder. Axel pocketed his phone, glanced over his shoulder for no particular reason and leaned into Roxas’ personal space. As if telling a secret, he propped his chin up in his palm and murmured.

“I know you and I aren’t pals, but we’re having a bonfire tonight. Did you want to come with me?”

Roxas’ instincts went to deny Axel, but he paused to process the invitation. Hayner would give birth to a full grown cow if he knew he was hanging out with Axel, and he could already see Sora’s side glance of disapproval because Axel was one of the ‘bad guys.’ It was ironic because Roxas knew in their heart of hearts his group wanted nothing more than to be one of those ‘bad guys.’ This pacified any red flags he might’ve been able to see, and Roxas raised both hands in defeat. It wasn’t often he decided to be spontaneously social, and while Axel was weird, he’d never gotten the sense of immediate danger from him.

“Well, if you _insist_.” Axel hadn’t insisted.

“ _Suh-weet_ …” He snatched Roxas’ hand and dug a Sharpie out of his jacket pocket. “I’m going to be late skipping class if I don’t go now, but here’s my number. Just text me and I’ll let you know when we’re meeting up. It’s just at the campgrounds, but if you need a lift I’ve got you.”

“No lift. We live beside the campgrounds.”

“You’re so convenient, Roxas.”

“ _Right_. Try not to ever say that to your girlfriend.”

Axel barked out a laugh that made Roxas jump. He pushed back his chair, leaving his tray behind. “Girlfriend? Do I seem like the type that’d have a girlfriend?”

This startled Roxas’ lack of ignorance. “Is there an actual _type_ for that kind of thing?”

Axel lulled his head to the side and rolled his eyes. He spun on the hell of his boot and strode away with a dismissive sort of wave. “I’ll see you tonight.”

The campground was a literal five-minute walk from Roxas’ house, and when playing in the fields during late summer afternoons, he’d always been able to hear the campers laughing and switching out their Dookie albums for either Siamese Dream or In Utero. As long as he didn’t make it to the other side of the woods, then he was safe enough in his own backyard, but that night he was intentionally traipsing through the wooded canopy for the fire pits Axel had texted him about. Someone was bringing beer, which was a big deal to Roxas who’d only ever been allowed to sip his mother’s whiskey and water as a half-masked joke on her part. He’d recoiled in disgust, the burning in his chest too much. Roxas was determined to do the exact opposite in the company of others.

It took a couple minutes of uncertain pacing and peering around rusting RVs, but Roxas eventually found Axel in a crowd of equally tall and intimidating company. The excess of unnaturally dyed hair was impressive, and Roxas hesitantly reached up to touch his bleached hair before approaching Axel who was in the middle of cracking open a beer can. Their eyes met only for Axel to produce a loud braying sound in greeting that grabbed everyone else’s amused attention. Roxas looked to the side when the others looked his way. While what Axel had done was excessive, it was nice having someone who was that enthusiastic about seeing him arrive.

“Here – take this.” Axel thrust the beer into Roxas’ hands and then leaned down to grab his own. “This is Saix and Demyx, but they’re not talking right now. Don’t be surprised. We’re a hostile bunch.”

No one jumped to explain the drama, but Roxas could sense that both Saix, a seemingly primordial figure birthed by the constellations with blue hair and chiseled Davidian features, and Demyx were definitely on aching terms. Demyx wasn’t as ethereal as Saix, but he had a mullet and an acoustic guitar strapped to his chest. As soon as that West coast drawl fell from the back of Demyx’s throat and he began to casually strum the same four chords everyone and their mother had learned when they wanted to be in a middle school rock band, Roxas was certain he’d start playing _Basket Case_ or even potentially an acoustic version of _Dysentery Gary_.

“So, where are you from?” Roxas asked Axel after listening to Demyx vividly describe his latex allergy to a then revolted Marluxia, a man with dishwater-pink hair and perfect nail beds. “You never told me.”

“I’m from around here.”

Roxas sipped his beer, which he found disgusting and told Axel he _loved_. “Were you homeschooled?”

“Not _exactly_. But kind of.”

This topic clearly didn’t interest Axel, and he pounded down another beer before tossing the can into a black trash bag and reaching for another in the cooler. Roxas noticed how he was a pretty adept drinker, and by the time he was on his third can since he’d arrived, Roxas was still nursing his first. Everyone except him seemed to be drinking fast, the crowd growing larger and more rambunctious as the night continued. By the time Axel offered Roxas his second beer, Demyx had officially started playing a song that everyone knew the words to. The inclusive nature of strangers singing along to a song even he knew gave Roxas incentive for slurping down another beer, but he couldn’t catch up with Axel. Truthfully, Roxas’ friends weren’t big partiers. He’d thought high school parties were actually a myth since no one seemed to have the connections to get alcohol.

Roxas’ inability to do anything but slowly drink and listen to conversations he wasn’t included on wasn’t a bad thing. Axel becoming tipsy was fine, at first. He engaged Roxas with small conversation about his friends, music void of relevance to anything outside of a niche group, avoided anything starkly personal and told Roxas chips were bad for him because salt was disgusting and bound to give him ‘cancer or something.’ While Roxas was certain high sodium wasn’t directly linked to cancer, he shoved his hand into the bag of chips, much to Axel’s disapproval, and crunched them between his teeth with a condescending stare down. Axel reached for a napkin and attempted to wipe the salty crumbs off Roxas’ face a little too hard, making Roxas laugh and smack his wrist away. The napkin touched the ground and Demyx groaned about their littering.

“I didn’t take you for a health nut.” Roxas mused as he continued to pop chips into his mouth.

“I’m not really. I don’t like salty things. Processed foods are awful for you.”

“Look at this,” Roxas said, reading the back of the bag. “These are gluten free with no trans fats. We are good to go, Axel. Now I’m going to eat three bags of this everyday until I die. Maybe I’ll guzzle an entire shaker of salt tomorrow morning and – ”

Axel’s hand flew to his mouth and he turned before Roxas could finish. Due to the darkness, he hadn’t noticed Axel’s increasing green colorization or uneasiness, but Roxas knew from that sudden run toward the woods that he was going to vomit. Roxas dropped the bag of Lays and wiped the salt and grease on the front of his pants before he jogged after Axel into the suddenly too dark woods. Roxas grimaced when he stepped into the trees, following the abrupt gags of Axel and ignoring Demyx’s loud yelling about how Axel couldn’t even keep down a couple of beers. A couple wasn’t exactly how he would’ve worded it – more like a six pack – but he ignored Axel’s friend’s cruel teasing and then all at once heard the painful heave and splat of projecting vomit.

Roxas spotted Axel in the far distance, leaned over and holding onto a low branch. His shoulders and face were shrouded in shadows that hide his distress like the dark side of the moon, and Roxas glanced back to see that the campsite’s poor lighting wasn’t going to reach them at all if they went any deeper into the foliage.

“I’m fine.” Axel groaned only to cough as more vomit climbed his throat. “That beer was poison.”

“Alcohol kind of is poison,” Roxas said. He carefully approached Axel from behind, and his hand sought the other’s spine. He smoothed his fingers down the defined bumpy line and settled on his lower back. “Do you need water? I could run back and get some for you. I saw Demyx had a couple bottles.”

“Back off…” Axel spat out the words and then a lingering piece of vomit in his mouth. He was clearly embarrassed. “Seriously, Roxas, the smell of those chips is killing me right now. It’s on your hands.”

Roxas would’ve continued coddling Axel anyway, but then Axel breathed out ‘fuck,’ and upchucked for the final time. Puke hit the dead leaves once more, and they crackled and popped like wet Rice Krispies. His hand didn’t leave the other’s back as he plucked out his phone and turned on the flashlight to make sure Axel was okay, but as soon as Axel saw the light he screamed and smacked Roxas’ phone downward. Shocked, Roxas scrambled to grab his phone because he didn’t want it covered in vomit, but as soon as he went to touch it, something warm and bulbous heaved beneath his fingertips. Roxas’ arm snapped back in surprise, and he knelt down, hands on his knees as he cautiously leaned forward to examine his phone.

Beneath the phone, and partially on the case, was red sludge. The first thing that came to mind was that Axel was vomiting up his organs and experiencing a latent allergic reaction to beer, but then the sludge visibly rippled. He peered closer, his skin suddenly much colder than before, and reached forward to finally retrieve his phone that was projecting its flashlight upward like a malfunctioning hologram. When he carefully picked it up by an end corner, he watched as the vomit dropped off in tiny pieces, and his breathing grew shallow. One of the remnants of vomit slithered onto his thumb, and the joints in that very hand locked. He stared dumbly at his fingers and brought his hand an inch from his nose to watch as several infantile slugs traveled from his phone and onto his hand, determinedly searching and smelling his skin.

Roxas redirected the light to Axel’s vomit and then stood upright when he realized that puddle wasn’t bloody bile and internal tissues but slugs and mucus. They moved together like uncertain water, and Roxas gazed down at it only to shake his head and straighten his legs. His fingers trembled around his phone as he whipped his hand to the side with determined flicks to clean off both his skin and the case. Roxas then snapped a look to Axel for answers, but he was leaned over his knees still in an undeterminable silence that made Roxas’ ribs rattle.

“I thought it’d be obvious,” he murmured and spat out another slug. This time it was bigger, and the plop was like dropped macaroni and cheese.  

“What about this is obvious?” Roxas asked, his voice nearly shrill. “There’s nothing obvious about this!”

“You’ve been watching me for years.”

He backed away from Axel’s form that was beginning to straighten out as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We don’t even know one another _now_.”

None of Axel’s friends had bothered to check on them. Roxas glanced toward the direction of his house and then flicked another slug off his fingertip with a panicked exhale. From what he could see in the glow from his phone, Axel’s dark skin had taken on an ashen color, and he was glistening with thick sweat. Roxas took his chance to dart away from the taller man with a final revolted stare. The woods were thick, but Roxas knew that as long as he kept going straight, then he’d find a way to make it to the clearing near his house. He listened for Axel’s boots crunching leaves behind him, but the blood flooding in and out of his ears was deafening him to his surroundings. Whether or not Axel was near or still looming by his vomit was impossible to tell. 

The night sky was dusty with clouds when he reappeared in his yard and leaned over his knees, suddenly feeling safe on his own property. Sweat and the earthy return of mushrooms radiated from his shoes as he went to jog toward the backdoor. The outside of his house was eclipsed by darkness, Sora surely out with their friends and his mother asleep. He considered texting Hayner to see if he was awake enough to come get him for the night because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand sleeping alone in his bedroom.

 As he reached into his back pocket for his phone, a hand sprung from the edge of the woods and snatched the back of his denim jacket, all at once tugging him backward and into the forest. A hand blocked Roxas’ scream, and Roxas violently shook his head from side-to-side when he felt faint wriggling against his pursed lips. Roxas jammed back his elbow, but Axel caught it before it could hit his stomach and then uncovered Roxas’ mouth with an exasperated sigh that infuriated his prisoner even more.

“Will you just listen to me?”

He lunged forward, but Axel yanked him back by his arm. That said, Axel slackened his grip this time, and Roxas wondered if he was about to let him go. Roxas’ hands shook as he swiped the slug guts off his face, but it wasn’t until he felt the moist trails on his cheeks did he realize he’d been crying from terror.

“Slug King,” Roxas snapped with a tear-garbled voice. When suddenly freed, he snapped around to face Axel whose hands were then shoved into his back pockets. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Axel blinked and cocked his head to the side. “Are you going to talk to me?”

Not knowing how to defend his reason for not running; he said the first thing that came to mind. “Considering we have lunch hour together I guess I better!”

Axel lightly cackled, but he bit it back. “Nice reasoning.”

“Don’t mock me right now…” Roxas could taste the slug remnants on his lips, and he shivered as if he’d been forced to down a bottle of cough syrup. “Start explaining or I’ll go inside and get the salt.”

“Don’t be so damn cruel. Death threats are unattractive.” Axel strode toward Roxas and then captured his chin with decisive fingers. Roxas tossed his head to the side, but then stopped when he saw Axel’s mouth parting to reveal his tongue. A threatening smile accompanied the outing of his tongue that wasn’t a tongue, but he kept his chuckle at bay when two slugs crept out between his lips. They were the same species that’d been following him since he was a child, and when Roxas recognized them, he looked at Axel’s face with a horrified awareness. The slugs’ antennas reached for Roxas and threatened to drop onto the blond’s forehead, but Axel sucked them back down his throat with a wet slurping that made his skin tingle.

“There’s nothing to really explain,” Axel said, again seeming to find himself to be the most blasé topic. “You were a cruel child, and as a child myself I wanted to punish you for killing animals like it was a game, but alas, your stupid charm nailed me in all the most inconvenient places. Not to mention, you could see everything, which was alarming and even more intriguing than punishing you for finding pornographic fascination with violence. When you saw me in that tree I knew you were sort of special. Not very many kids can do that, you know? And I desperately wanted a friend. But you’ve been beating me up for years. Anytime you kicked me to the side or tried stomping me I felt it. Had you tried to kill me again after that little hospital visit, then this night would’ve turned out very differently, I promise.”

 Roxas’ face burned at being called out for harming animals.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Axel murmured, tugging him closer. “You know what you did.”

“I was a stupid kid.” Roxas stuttered as he gathered his defense. His voice grew soft. “Don’t hurt me.”

“You almost dying in the ER was plenty. I’m not a murderer, Roxas. That’s your title.”

An unexpected calm overtook them as Roxas gathered his thoughts. He had so many questions, even going as far as to pinch his throat to make sure this wasn’t a lucid dream. When he remained in front of Axel, he shifted his weight and considered his options. The initial threat was gone, and fascination was beginning to replace his fear.

“Do it again.” The boy reached up for the side of Axel’s face, almost as if inspecting one of the captured bugs from his childhood. “I want to see it again. Your tongue…”

Axel parted his lips and the slugs reappeared. Roxas reached up and uncertainly dragged his fingers along the tops of them, tangling his fingers between them and their intrigued sniffing. The morbid fascination continued as he traced the mucus along Axel’s bottom lip, and he ignored him when he laughed and quirked a questioning eyebrow. Two of Roxas’ fingers pushed farther back toward the end of Axel’s throat, and Axel made a noise of surprise when he gagged, but he really didn’t seem to mind Roxas’ intrusive nature. Axel’s noises made Roxas’ chest heave, and he retracted his fingers that were then coated in thick stringy mucus.

“Come back with me,” Axel offered when his tongue returned to normal. “I promise no one’s going to hurt you.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“That’s the thing. I can’t tell you why you should. But I’m asking you to.”

Roxas’ shoulders relaxed, and he rubbed his neck. He wanted to contemplate the repercussions, but he reached out for Axel’s suddenly offered hand and decided to go. It wasn’t as if slugs were carnivorous, and if Axel had wanted to poison him, then he was sure he would’ve done so when he touched the inside of his mouth.

 

###  III.

Roxas’ family and friends didn’t understand why or how he became preoccupied with his new vegetarian diet, nor did they bide well with the sudden weekly trips to the campgrounds with Axel. His new best friend was scarce, nonexistent aside from meandering around the backyard or impatiently skating along the sidewalk that extended from Roxas’ front porch, but Sora and their mother soon understood that he was the most important aspect of Roxas’ high school life. Whenever Roxas needed a ride, Axel appeared in his battered Chevy that didn’t even have a functioning radio, drumming his fingers along the wheel to an internalized song, and whenever Roxas seemed to finally be alone, one could look around and see Axel manifest from seemingly nowhere.

“Do you think your mom knows?” Axel asked, seated beside Roxas in their school’s gated off greenhouse. It was overgrown, mostly abandoned, and where they had started having lunch once Roxas’ old group of friends had exhibited hostile jealousy. The day Olette poured milk on Roxas’ peanut butter sandwich was the same day he realized they were better off completely alienated than half-assimilated. “Sometimes it’s obvious even to me.”

“She’d never guess,” Roxas sleepily murmured on his side, having picked all of the cucumbers and tomatoes out of his salad and no longer interested in the leafy bits. Axel had already stolen his mushrooms. “There’s no way for anyone to guess, which is fine. Once I graduate we can disappear for good. Did you want to visit the hole later on today? I know you’ve been watching it, but I’d like to see how they’re doing.”

“Nothing’s changed, but if you want to.”

“I’d like to be – you know, involved.”

Axel crinkled his nose. “You’re still so _human_.”

After classes, they made their way to the woods behind Roxas’ house where they actually spent more time than the campgrounds. The forest floor was where Roxas slept most weekends, but it was also where Axel and he had instigated their emotionally hands off love affair. Roxas spent the first few months after discovering Axel’s species gauging him with the intentions of understanding it to his fullest ability. Through the help of unintentional flirting and building a kind of standoffish chemistry, Roxas was finally able get Axel on his back, making it loud and clear he was more than happy with becoming what Axel needed. Fucking one another in the woods made for the kind of messes Roxas had never learned about in Sex Ed. For one, entire bodies weren’t supposed to secrete mucus, and the last time he’d checked, becoming a slug wasn’t a venereal disease.

 One evening, after accidentally making Axel eat dirt while pressing his face into the ground from behind, Axel admitted that it actually was a venereal disease – ‘but like only in a human a sense.’ Naked and still dripping globules of mucus onto the ground, Axel hung his head in shame, knowing full well he should’ve said something before their first time. While Roxas’ gut instinct told him to be furious, he picked the mucus-stuck leaves off his knees and told Axel it was fine instead of going for the salt.

“It’s over here, right?” Roxas asked.

Axel followed after him. “A little more to the left. You’ll see the circle of leaves. Be careful, though. If you dig them out too quickly, then you’ll damage them. I don’t want any dead ones.”

“What’re the odds of all of them surviving?”

“Pretty high if you don’t kill them first.”

Roxas knelt down when he spotted the circle and began gently scooping up leaves. After a couple handfuls of dirt had been tossed to the side, he spotted the first white sphere. Roxas grinned, swelling with a strange kind of pride that would’ve never been fathomable to him a few months before. “How many are there again?”

Axel cleared his throat and decided he didn’t like Roxas’ human inclination to co-parent. “Thirty-four, I think.”

“I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You do realize this is strange, right? That you’re acknowledging this.”

Roxas shrugged and allowed his expression to insinuate how little he cared. He then reached down and picked one up. Lifting it to his cheek, he gazed at Axel who cautiously reached out for the egg because Roxas was _touching_ it. Touching it had not been a part of their agreement, and it was making Axel’s nerves flare.

“Does it look like me?”

“It’s a white egg, Roxas. It doesn’t look like either of us.”

“Are we going to introduce them to my mom? Good ole grandma?”

“That’s _not_ how it works…”

Roxas snorted and relished in Axel’s uptightness. “You’re getting worked up again.”

“Because you are _touching_ them!” Axel finally knelt down and attempted to cover them back up. “What if something sees and tries to eat them?”

“Don’t be such a first time mother.” Roxas held the one egg to his chest. “Nothing’s going to eat them.”

Axel reached out for the final egg. “Give it to me.”

“You know how humans are about parenting, and then you decided to breed with one. You saw this coming, Axel. You _knew_ …”

“None of this was intentional. It’s not my fault you didn’t know slugs are hermaphrodites. And by the way, you’re not human anymore either, so drop the fucking human excuse.”

“I’m really not appreciating this blame game right now.” Roxas kissed the egg, and he grinned when Axel lunged for it, nearly knocking the egg out of Roxas’ hand.

Roxas’ back hit the ground, and he ended up laughing until he thought his abdominals would rip. He hadn’t even come close to dropping the egg, but Axel stood there on his knees with his fingers in his dreads. His breathing was shallow, and that was when Roxas finally handed off the egg. Axel was on the brink of a panic attack, and that made the situation significantly less funny. Roxas watched in annoyance as Axel inspected it for damage.

“I could’ve ripped off your dick, you know,” Axel snapped. “Slugs do that. That’s what they do.”

“So, anyway.” Roxas let that one be. “If you’re Slug King, then does that make these eggs the princes and princesses of slugs?”

Axel deflated even more. “That sounds really cheap. I think we should go somewhere else.”

“Right. Can’t have the children hear us fighting.”

When the nest was covered, Roxas had Axel help him to his feet. From there, they abandoned the eggs for a different corner of the woods, and they occasionally glanced over their shoulders to make sure they weren’t being followed. Roxas eventually reached out for Axel’s wrist, and Axel took his hand so that they could lace fingers and go on their afternoon hike. While the mucus was difficult to get used to, Roxas had developed a significantly healthier lifestyle upon meeting Axel what with the wholesome eating and excessive outdoor activity.

“You know,” Roxas started as Axel picked him up to lift him over a fallen tree. “Sometimes I still want to squish you.”

Axel had finally eased up once they were no longer near the vulnerable nest. He grinned and then suddenly laughed as if imagining Roxas attempting to put his shoe on his head from so far down below. Roxas would’ve been lucky to kick his hip on a good day. “It’s a good thing I’m so damn tall.”

“Maybe for _you_.”

His arms abruptly enveloped Roxas’ waist, and he pressed his face into tufts of blond hair, still laughing. “I’m ready for us to be done with high school, so that you can be the other Slug King.”

“After this last summer vacation nothing’s going to be the same, so don’t rush it. It’s already too soon.”

“You’re right.” Axel swayed Roxas to the side, and he affectionately sniffed along his ear. With the sun setting overhead, Roxas noted how the periwinkle and orange sky was beginning to cast shadows along the new patches of moss. Axel, still clearly thinking about their future together, repeated Roxas’ last word. “ _Soon_.” 


End file.
